Four months into our French foray, and we’re really starting to feel like locals — especially because we received our summons from OFII (the French Office of Immigration and Integration) for our medical appointments a few weeks ago. Anyone living in France for three months or more qualifies to take part in the public healthcare system — but first, France wants to have a full understanding of your medical situation.
The letter from OFII informed us of two appointments that we were expected to attend. The first was Tuesday at a radiology office, where we both received chest X-rays. The entire process was incredibly fast and efficient, and they handed us print-outs of our results about 10 minutes after the scans. Then Friday we lined up at the OFII HQ, conveniently located a few blocks from our apartment, for a “medical appointment” that turned out to be mostly a questionnaire and blood pressure check. Both appointments were free. And now we await some paperwork that will allow us to apply for our carte vitale, the health insurance card for France’s public healthcare system.
Speaking of health, the improving weather has had a hugely positive impact on my mental health, as I hoped. I’ve heard that this was the rainiest winter on record in France, and I believe it — it was honestly so depressing at times. But it truly feels like we’ve turned a corner, with warmer temperatures, fragrant purple wisteria everywhere, loads of sunshine, and the trees already covered in fresh green leaves. It's so nice to open the windows to our apartment, pack away the winter/rain gear, and pull out my dresses and sandals and sunscreen. I foresee a lot of long walks and terrace-sitting in our future.
Sunday was perhaps my favorite day we’ve had since moving to France. It was our first weekend home after a few weeks of traveling (Venice and the Dordogne, both incredible trips I’ll share about later). We spent a lazy morning at home with the windows wide open, then took the tram over to Saint-Michel for their Sunday brocante. This time, I came ready to bargain with plenty of bags and cash. For about 80€, I went home with an antique mirror, a painting, a set of plates and bowls, and a French-English dictionary. We also met a friend for a quick drink and had a very long Spanish lunch at the Marche des Capucins. And now I’m seriously considering reopening my long-dormant Etsy shop to sell French brocante finds. If I’m honest, I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I visited Paris Market in Savannah many moons ago. Peut-être? We’ll see.
Time seems to be moving in fast-forward, and I can hardly believe we’ve almost completed our first block of intensive French classes. Oli is days away from his spring break, and Todd’s parents are soon arriving for their long-anticipated visit, followed quickly by my sister. I know the next few months are going to pass by in a flash, and I have mixed feelings about it. I want to savor every moment of this experience, and I know there are some things I will miss desperately if/when we return to the U.S., but I still find myself dreaming of home often.
Sometimes I think that I wish I’d known what I was getting myself into with this move — I may feel pulled between these two places for the rest of my life. I may have opened a door that can never be fully closed. But, as one expat recently shared with me, is that such a bad thing? Or should we consider ourselves lucky to have this opportunity to expand our existence? I kind of love that.